Why The Rain Falls
by Ghostly Priestess Kikyo
Summary: Onshot, Akito POV. I wonder why rain falls. It must be stupid, I decide. It will only be destroyed in the end.


**Author's Note: A little Akito-centric oneshot I thought up while it was raining this morning. I was in a rather poetic mood and found myself comparing falling rain to people. All of a sudden, Fruits Basket came to mind, and this was the result.**

Why the Rain Falls

_Tip-tip-tip-tip-tip. _I gaze out of the room's sole window, wondering why the rain always seems in such a hurry to fall. I sit limply, my hands and head resting on the windowsill as my lower body lies sprawled on the floor. The rain keeps falling, its bland color casting a melancholy tint on the goings-on outside. The rain must be stupid, I decide. When a raindrop meets the ground, that is the end of it. It shatters into a thousand pieces, never to be whole again. It must be stupid to fall so readily.

My hands clench unconsciously, and I feel my cheeks become stained with tears. Is each bit of water so foolish as to think that it would be better off alone? Separated from the others, does it really think it will find happiness? _Kureno… _He didn't wish to leave me, did he? No, he loves me. He's told me so, thousands of times. So why did he separate himself from me? A tear fell off of my face, staining the sleeve of my kimono. I watched bleakly as it turned from a pure, divine white to a dull gray.

And the others—they want to leave me, even if they haven't yet. The rat was God's most trusted companion—the first at the banquet. So why does Yuki look at me like that? He doesn't love me. He's afraid of me. _Why?! _If only he loved me, he would have no reason to be afraid of me. Is it so hard to grasp?! Is it not true that the rat is supposed to be smart?!

And the ox—it's supposed to be an idiot, and yet that Hatsuharu thinks he can fool me. The Juunishi may have been fond of one another, but they loved their God first. He sneaks around with that disgusting horse as if they were naughty schoolchildren hiding from their vicious teacher. They are supposed to be like children looking up to their mother. Telling her everything and all. If they won't play the role, why should I?

But telling me straight out about their melodramatic little affairs is just as despicable, isn't it? When I think of Hiro's face as he confessed his true feelings, my hands itch to slap him once again. As if he knows anything of love! He is just as child! And his pathetic girlfriend believes she can get away with everything by flashing her cute looks. She is just as ugly as the rest of them. Uglier, even, than me.

And right now I should have the comfort of the Juunishi as they gather around, tears falling from their face at the joy of seeing their beloved God. They should not be off on their own adventures, living life as if it were their own. It is not their own. It is ours. Ours to share.

We made that promise together that beautiful night. I loved every one of them, and them me. But now they are straying from their shepherd. They act as if it is a curse, not a blessing. I rock back from the window, lifting my hands to cover my face. My sobbing echoes around the empty room as I curl up into a ball. Loneliness… They think they know loneliness. They're so selfish. So—damn—selfish!

I gape. In my anger I had smashed the window. Now the rain is falling inside, striking me, blending with my tears. I look up as the wind howls. One single raindrop stands on a branch of the sakura tree outside my window. My eyes widen even further as fear overtakes my body.

I understand now. I understand why the rain falls.

It is trapped. At first its creation seems like a blessing, but then it is _trapped. _There is nowhere to go. The bits of water will, forever, be together. But they tire of each other. Their life becomes meaningless. If they fall, they will die, but falling will mean the end of it all.

The raindrops are so miserable.

But, knowing this, I wish that this single raindrop will stay on the tree. That it won't fall. That it won't die. That this one raindrop will be permanent.

It trembles for a moment, then slides down the underside of the branch. Tears cloud a vision, but I wipe them away anxiously. This drop must not fall.

It is inevitable. It will fall. I see it hanging there, gradually detaching itself from the place it could have made itself a home on.

It falls.

I collapse, sobbing pathetically. It is all over. They will all leave me. It has been too long.

I know for a fact they will leave me.


End file.
